Oh I know, it’s been a while, 18 March 2013 to be exact, since I wrote a post on this blog (except for this post on this other blog).
A lot has been going on, and I feel like it might be a good idea to get it down in writing, for my sake as much as for your reading pleasure.
So, since the last post:
I decide to leave Sydney and return to Perth.
I quit my job.
I drive from Sydney to Perth (a post on the epic 5,000 km road trip later)
I get a nice job in communications as soon as I arrive in Perth.
I house sit for while – no rent!
I start going out with that old boyfriend of 20-odd years ago from this earlier post.
(Sounding good right!)
I hurt my back and end up in hospital just before New Year.
My back seems to slowly start to get better.
I think I’d better go to the doctor to get my boobs checked – one is a bit weird.
I have a mammogram and ultrasound.
I am diagnosed with breast cancer.
Wait – WHAT?
(Even now, 9 months later, I have to do a double-take – ME? Cancer?)
Because the lymph nodes are involved, I have a CT scan and a full body bone scan.
I am diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer – it’s spread to my bones.
(It was really hard to write that last sentence – still makes me cry).
My back starts to really hurt again.
The cancer is 100% oestrogen-receptor positive, so the oncologist puts me on the drug Tamoxifen. No chemo? Maybe not, says the oncologist. Really? No chemo? I keep asking, though I’m pretty happy about not having chemo.
I have 5 days of radiation for my back, because it turns out that soreness? It’s actually the cancer and I’ve fractured a vertebra. No wonder it’s so freaking sore.
I have a follow-up scan in April. It’s spread to my liver now. Better start chemo straight away. You bet we’d better. Isn’t that what I’ve been fucking asking for?
Despite all this, I feel really healthy. Traumatised, devastated, shocked, grieving, deeply, deeply sad, a whole lot of other things, but physically healthy.
I have 6 rounds of chemo, 3 weeks apart. I’m terrified, but it’s not nearly as awful as I anticipated. Like having one of those hangovers where you just can’t get up off the sofa. Of course there was the hair loss and traumatic as that was, I got over it pretty quickly. Hair grows back.
Chemo finished, hair starts to sprout again, looking forward to really starting to feel 100% healthy again, then. I fall over in my courtyard at home and break my freaking kneecap. Surgery and 4 days in hospital.
Universe – WHAT THE HELL?
Ok, ok, I GET IT. I’m not resting enough. Now I can nothing but. I can’t drive, can’t leave the house unassisted, so I have to rest.
Start 5 weeks of radiation on my naughty boob. Surgery later in the year.
Phew. More later.